Certain Changes
by Veronica Astoria Hart
Summary: Vash returned with Knives and realized he wasn't as self aware as he thought. Or at the very least he needed to understand plants better so he, Knives and the girls head off to New Oregon to get answers. But along the way, there are...a few (major) complications. VM, WMi, K? (Is he even cut out for that?) Slight OOC problem likely...
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes:

I have no regular updating schedule, no beta-reader, and a half-baked idea that Nightow's characters and storyworld wouldn't appreciate. But I'm crazy enough to keep posting my ideas.

If you read this chapter before the update, you probably noticed a ton of mistakes (I know I did when I went back to edit this) and you might have read the author's note at the bottom. What I said- the promise that I'll finish all of my ficlets- still applies, but when...I really haven't a clue. This may turn into Perf

ect Girl Evolution in terms of new chapters, and I'm really unmotivated sometimes. Jusy a warning.

* * *

He leaned against the door frame, watching her cook. A genuine smile adorned his face. It was a habit now, and his favorite time of the day- donuts excluded. No doubt she was turning the cheap fare into something delicious (his nose could and would attest to that), but Vash found he had little interest in the food. Actually, he wasn't interested in the food at all.

He was watching her cook.

There was something about the process...The way she hummed softly as she put together the ingredients; the way she swayed her hips in time to the tune (which, for all his hundred thirty-odd years, he could not place) and danced around the counters; how the light seemed to hit her just right. How her lips and cheeks always seemed rosier as she smiled...Yes, the was something about Meryl that he loved watching. Well, when her guard was down anyway. Which had happened more and more often as of late. Or was it that he couldn't remember it happening before? Vash had always had Kni- something to worry about...

She seemed so relaxed despite all the problems they were having. When she cooked, unaware of an audience, she seemed not to care. Not care about their money problems, or how the townsfolk hated them, or Knives recuperating upstairs and how he-

_**Don't think about it.**_

Pushing away the maelström of emotions his thoughts brought on, Vash moved from the door and into the kitchen. "What'cha cooking, Insurance Girl?" The empty grin plastered on his face became real when she jumped. Whirling around Meryl opened her mouth to tell him off- only to be stopped as she watched him stiffle his laughter with his hands.

Realizing that Meryl caught him laughing, he gave up his attempt to conceal his mirth, pounding a fist against the counter and holding his stomach as he fought for air. Even though the look on her face was growing murdurous (those walls of hers were back in place now), Vash couldn't help it. Holding that spoon in her hand, sauce dripping down from her nose to her apron, Meryl looked adorable. Especially with that embarassed flush undermining her anger. Staring into her passionate glare, Vash discovered that adorable wasn't the word he was looking for.

_Alluring. That's it. _Meryl was incredibly alluring.

His ears grew warm as he realized the implications of that observation. And the one that came with his blush. Her hand whacked into his head in time to knock the thought from his brain. Conviently, all of the reasons why Vash shouldn't, no, _couldn't _feel that way took its place. They were too different. It was too dangerous. She was human, he was a plant. She never spoke of her family, his was actively trying to destroy humankind. And even if that weren't true, they were too different. _I'm too old._

Still, watching her eyes soften and tension leave her shoulders as he went about whining and apologizing, Vash found he didn't care. His eyes watched her lips move as she scolded him. "...don't sneak up on me again! Okay, Mr. Vash?" And with that Meryl was turning away from him to clean up the mess. Everything slowed down.

Vash saw her foot step into a small sauce puddle on the ground, saw her eyes widden as she slipped, felt her fall into his arms. And then everything sped up so fast that Vash lost several seconds. The next thing he knew, he was kissing her. The petite woman froze. Only for a moment- a moment long enough for his doubts to return.

He prepared to pull back, to plead for forgivness, beg her to pretend it hadn't happened. But then, she did the unthinkable and kissed him back. It was wonderful. And Vash soon found that it wasn't enough and pressed harder, moved faster. He needed more. And Meryl responded in kind.

He pulled back to let her breathe; he wouldn't need to for at least another minute or two, but she was gulping the air greedily._ Perhaps I should have done that sooner_, he mused. The thought was slow in coming. A pleasant haze was forming in his brain. He leaned down again, but she put a finger to his lips, gazing at him through half-lidded eyes. And there went all of his thinking capabilities, out the window, as heat formed a pit beneath his stomach. He needed to stop, before the two of them did something they couldn't take back. Vash knew he did.

So why was it that when Meryl murmured, "Dinner..." he found himself saying it could manage on its own for a few minutes? (And while that was true, he didn't _really_ believe it would only be a few minutes. Indeed, he had a feeling he might not be letting her go ever again.) Her other half-hearted protests were similarly brushed away. Then, albeit a tad shyly, she bridged the gap and kissed him. And then Vash had a bit of trouble telling where she stopped and he began. Wait. No, that wasn't true.

He could feel the electricity zip from Meryl's fingers as she traced a few of his scars- when had he lost his shirt?- and the way her tongue danced inside his mouth. It felt so good, and everything was too hot. And when had she wrapped her legs aroung his waist? And oh man, how he wished she could pull closer-but there wasn't any space between them already. And how could-

* * *

Vash jerked upright. The blond former gunman was on his chair, in Knives' room. And he was completely alone aside from his comatose brother. _What_?

His face flushed as it clicked. Vash had been dreaming. About Meryl. And himself. Doing...naughty things. His blush deepened as he looked down, feeling an uncomfortable bulge between his legs. He fidgeted, shaking the crick out of his neck, clentching his hands. What had he been thinking? Some part of his brain stated that he hadn't, as he'd been asleep, but that made it worse; Vash was already too aware of her during the day, during his waking hours. Now he couldn't keep Meryl out of his mind as he slept?

Light began to stream in from behind the curtains. Vash rose, heading to the bathroom for a shower. There was no way he'd get back to sleep now (he shouldn't have been sleeping in the first place), not with that dream still fresh in his head. Besides...He cast a look at his brother, reaching out to see if Knives had stirred. He hadn't. Vash had Knives to look after. The tall plant nodded, leaving the room.

He'd do his stretches more often until the thoughts, _feelings _of that dream weny away. Until then, he'd limit his contact with Mer- short girl. Hopefully that would help.

Vash doubted they would.

* * *

Word Count: 1,147- about two and a half pages...

Alright! Chapter one has been edited...It's still my first kiss scene and I think Vash is probably OOC, but it's a lot better than it was.

Edited on 4-13-14.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two! Huzzah! (Huzzah. _Huh-zah._ What a strange word. It sounded better in my head than how it looks...)

Wilhelm Wigworthy, I have two things to say to you. First: thank you so much for reviewing! As the first reviewer, you get virtual dessert points. Second: I love your name. Awesome alliteration means more virtual brownie points...That and I've always liked the names "Wilhelm", "William", and all names related...

Potentially creepy thanks aside, all disclaimers and major notes from the previous chapter apply.

* * *

Vash lie on his back, staring into the bleak desert sky. Three days. He blocked the early morning suns with an arm, letting out a sigh. It had been three day since he had The Dream- that was how he refered to it if he allowed his thoughts to tread in such a dangerous place. It had been three days since he decided to ignore Meryl. And he was having a rough time trying to.

They lived in the same house. They ate breakfast and dinner together- because Milly would have a fit if they didn't. And every time he was in the same room as Meryl, Vash remembered The Dream. How her lips had moved. The way she'd felt pressed against him. He found himself wondering what she would do if he _did _act like he had in The Dream. Would they end up the same way? Part of him longed to try it. Many times he'd reach out before realizing what he was doing. And every time, Vash ran.

Mer- _short girl_, he corrected- hadn't managed to find him yet, but Milly had. She'd found him pacing on the porch, curled up in the tub, pretending invisibility on the couch while the other insurance girl slept. Milly had found him no matter where he was, and he needed to be alone.

Vash didn't want her to know why he was behaving so oddly.

Which led to his current position this morning, hiding on their neighbor's roof. (Vash didn't even remember climbing up there.)

But up on the roof, hiding from Meryl- short girl, darn it!- wasn't really better than sitting across from her in the kitchen. In many ways it was worse: his mind travelled in a loop. Meryl, The Dream, what would have happened if he hadn't woken up (and he didn't want to know what that would be like- couldn't let himself know), why he shouldn't feel...whatever it was he felt for her. And then it started again. Vash groaned. If he was lucky Knives would occasionally flit across his thoughts and-

_Knives_.

The tall blond sat up suddenly, eyes wide. Knives. The genocidal plant was still asleep, as he had been since their fight. Which happened two and a half weeks ago.

Vash nearly tripped over his lanky limbs as he rushed off the roof. Eighteen days was too long for a plant to be in a coma. In fact, plants slept to heal; they didn't have comas. As far as he knew at least, production plants didn't. And independents weren't that different from their sisters. He rushed upstairs to his room and threw the door open.

There, on the bed, Knives slept like a baby. There, next to the bed, Meryl was changing Knives' bandages. Vash froze for a moment- the light of the suns filtered through the curtains, making the petite woman seem to glow, making recall why he was hiding from her- but he snapped himself out of it. Something was wrong with Knives.

Vash removed his hand from the doorhandle and rushed over to the bed. He felt Meryl jump, but anything she said was lost on him as he gripped his twin's hand and reached into his mind.

Nothing. No malicious thoughts, no indignant rants, no enraged scolding...and no shield to keep anything out.

Though Vash hardly ever used his plant powers now, there was once a time when he communicated with his brother _**only **_using his mind. It had been a long, long time since then- not long after the Great Fall Vash had stopped, but he still knew when Knives was blocking him. As he figured Knives would after losing their fight. But the stubborn platinum blond wasn't blocking him.

_He's not doing __**anything**_.

Vash turned to the woman next to him, posture tense. His eyes wide and hands clasping his brother's, he said, "Meryl, something's wrong."

She scowled. His genocidal brother had been asleep in their house for weeks, Vash had been avoiding both Milly and herself for several days, the townspeople had hated them since they arrived. And now, out of the blue, Vash decided something was wrong? Meryl opened her mouth to tell him off- and promptly shut it again. The gunman had turned his eyes back to his brother.

Normally, when Vash did something that upset her, he seemed to know that she was upset and wait for her to react. But normal had flown the toma coop if the last few days were any indication. He had started treating her like he had when they first met, all those years ago. So if it was the polite insurance agent he wanted, he get her. The ache in Meryl's chest had nothing to do with Vash. Nothing at all.

"What do you mean, Mr. Vash the Stampede?" The question was asked calmly, politely. Coldly.

The tall outlaw froze at her voice. Slowly, Vash turned around, still holding Knives' hand. He frowned, taking in her expression. Why was she...? Oh. It had been a few days since they last spoke. But...

"Knives shouldn't still be asleep. I spent ten days out of it after...what happened that time, but he should be better by now." Vash tightened his grip on his brother's hand.

Meryl frowned. Sure, she didn't feel anything towards Vash's treatment of her for the past few days- she didn't!- but if Vash was saying what Meryl thought he was...

He looked straight into her eyes- searching for something before he sighed in resignation. "I don't think there's anything we can do for him here." Vash glanced at his brother, suddenly unable to meet her eyes and Meryl froze.

"We have to leave."

Her heart stopped.

* * *

Word count: 955- still about two pages

It seems too short to me, but here you go: another chapter. This one is also unedited and will probably change next time a chapter goes up, but whatever. Should I make the chapters longer? I mean this is basically a single scene and I could try to add another but...Hm...

Review!


	3. Chapter 3

Yay! An update! After what could be considered a long time...

Thank you for reviewing to:

JasperK- As I like to read your work, it means a lot to me that you're reading mine...

Lady Spaz- You're making me blush...Please try to add criticism too, because getting so much praise just... (blushes) Also, I did decide to lengthen each chapter to two scenes instead of just one. Sorry...

As I am the only one editing this, it's bound to be filled with typos and sentences that make no sense. Still, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

For the dozenth time in the past few days, a brunette cursed the covered pick-up truck and reason why she had not slept in days. Meryl tightened her grip on the steering wheel, clenching her teeth. If they didn't find a town soon, she was going to shoot someone. Preferably a tall, blond, concious someone.

She supposed it wouldn't have been so bad if she could trade driving off to someone else. But that was impossible; Va- Mr. Vash the Stampede couldn't drive and Milly had fallen asleep behind while driving before. The brunette had fallen asleep on a thomas before too. How her partner had done so, Meryl had no idea, but one thing was clear: she was the only one capable of driving safely.

If only Mr. Vash could stop whining.

Despite her irritation, Meryl almost laughed. It was almost like things were normal again. But she didn't laugh because, no, this was not like old times.

Caught up in her thoughts, the petite insurance agent did not notice that they had come across a town until Milly shouted, "Ma'am, look! That must be Macca City!" And she did. On the horizon, a town sprouted. They would be able to stop for the night. She could stop driving.

Meryl smiled, hands loosening their painful grip on the wheel. She looked into the rearview mirror to thank her partner, only to meet Vash's eyes from where he sat with Knives in the truck bed. They glanced away at the same time. Quietly, Meryl murmured, "Thank you, Milly."

Only an hour (read: an eternity) later, the truck stopped in front of a building whose rusted sign declared it to be an inn. The driver uncurled her fingers before removing the keys from the ignition. Stiff hands opened the driver's-side door and a slim figure hopped down. Meryl stumbled a bit as she began walking around the vehicle, but Milly and Vas- Mr. Vash didn't seem to be having any trouble. The group entered the inn, Knives slung over Vash's good shoulder.

The bar keep startled at the sight of them. But quickly he gave them keys for their rooms, wanting them out of the way before the dinner rush began. Whatever it was they were doing- he eyed Knives and concidered reporting them for kidnapping- they would scare off his regulars. The Upstairs, the twins parted ways with the girls. Milly noted her friend watching them as Vash walked away.

Perhaps she did need to ask what was going on between them. They walked into their room and she shut the door.

Meryl stripped off her outer layer and collapsed, face-down, on a bed. She groaned when she heard Milly set their typewriter on the table; she had forgotten about the report.

Milly watched her friend, a small smile on her face. "Don't worry, Ma'am, I can type up the report if you want." She folded her jacket over the back of a chair and reached for Meryl's discarded clothes.

Slowly, Meryl turned her head. "It's fine, Milly. I'm just thinking I need to take a nap before I start on it." A wary smile graced her lips. She rolled over to face her friend.

For a moment, they were silent. Then Milly began, "Ma'am, did...Did you get in a fight with Vash?" Meryl sighed, shaking her head. Milly gasped. "He didn't turn you down when you told him, did he? Oh! Vash should know better than to lead you on and then-" Meryl rolled over suddenly, face hidden as she exclaimed,

"Milly, Milly! I...I still haven't told him...And really, he's never even shown any sign that he might, well you know."

"Ma'am..." Milly shook her head. There was another pause and she realized that her first question was still unanswered. "My little big brothers always says that 'you have to -'" She broke off, sighing. "I think...I think Mr. Vash would want you to tell him, Miss Meryl."

The tall brunette moved to the door. Meryl said nothing. "I'll go find us something to eat, Ma'am."

The door closed behind Milly with a click, but Meryl only frowned and closed her eyes. She needed that nap.

* * *

When Milly reached the bar and placed her order, she was surprised to see that Vash was already eating. He shoveled the stew into his mouth at an alarming rate, but somehow managed to double his speed when he noticed her. As his eyes flitted around, looking for an escape route or distraction, she approached the back corner where he sat.

It was time to get some answers, on Meryl's behalf.

"Hiya, Mr. Vash!" The gunman fidgeted under the force of her smile.

"Hey, tall girl." He resumed filling his mouth immediately.

A waitress, wearing a uniform not unlike the one Meryl had at their last place, set a plate of spaghetti, a mug of tea and a cup of pudding in front of Milly, refilling Vash's drink without being asked.

_Darn it_, Vash thought. Now he had to stay. Realizing there was no longer any point in eating so quickly, Vash slowed down. He glanced at the waitress.

"Her uniform looks just like Miss Meryl's, huh? Only hers is pink and Ma'am's was black."

Suddenly, Vash recalled Meryl coming home from the bar soon after he had woken up. She had smelled like alcohol and cigarette smoke and sweat and lavendar. Meryl had complained about how lousy her tips had been that night, an adorable frown on his face. And the way the uniform fit her...Vash stopped himself, remembering what happened the last time he'd thought about M-short girl's appearance. He nodded silently, sipping at his beer.

He nearly aspirated the beverage when Milly wondered, "Did you get in a fight with her again?"

"Hah?"

Milly looked into his eyes, frowning slightly. "Neither one of you is talking to the other and Ma'am seems really upset...And both of you need to work this out."

The blond looked away first. "We aren't fighting with each other. I...Mer- short girl just..." He drained the last of his beer and stood. "I need to check on Knives."

Vash left enough double dollars on the table to cover both of their meals and headed upstairs.

Milly furrowed her brows deeper. "But then why are they ignoring each other?" The table answered with silence but she continued, "And why was Mr. Vash acting so odd?"

* * *

Word Count: 1,108


	4. Chapter 4

Hello, everyone! I apologize for not posting this earlier- and since I do feel bad, I'm giving you two chapters today, instead of one. Please consider this a Christmas present, because I probably won't be able to update again before January...And I also apologize for any mistakes anyone notices.

Thanks to: crazy and random child, Lady Spez, and SewerSurfin. Your reviews really make my day.

* * *

WHEN the girls left their room and sold the truck the next morning, Milly still had no idea why Vash and Meryl weren't talking. Neither said anything about an argument and she knew they weren't lying- both had their tells and Milly knew them the way she knew the back of her hands. Which was well to say at the least.

By the time afternoon rolled around, Milly was no closer to a solution. She watched Meryl hand over the money they'd received from the truck in exchange for some second-class rooms on the steamer. Vash stood nearby, having propped Knives up on a bench so it looked like he was simply waiting for their turn to board.

"I still don't think that this is a good idea," Meryl announced when she handed everyone their tickets.

"Ma'am," Milly began, speaking over the announcement that first class was entering the steamer, "I don't think anything is gonna' happen this time."

Vash looked over, trying to fit a smile on his face. It looked more like a grimace when he said, "Tall girl's right...short girl." There was a moment of awkward silence following Vash's statement. Was he no longer calling them by name at all? " After all, I'm not...wearing the jacket anymore."

Meryl opened her mouth as if to reply, but she merely closed it and nodded in response. She wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. Milly frowned. _How do I fix this? _she wondered. "Mr. Vash-"

"Second class now boarding!" the sand steamer's intercom interrupted. Without another word the group gathered their things, Milly carrying Vash's bag when he lifted Knives, and headed to the steamer. Like most other orca-class steamers, the loading process was a time of organized chaos. Several times Meryl and Milly lost sight of Vash- though they suspected he was trying to run again. When they finally reached their rooms, two rooms next to each other, Milly felt an idea light up in her mind like a plant bulb.

She stopped in front of the twins' room before Vash could unlock it and slip inside. "You know," Milly started, "I could watch Knives for you, Mr. Vash."

Both of her companions looked surprised by her offer. "M- Tall girl, I, um, I don't know if that's such a great idea…" Meryl was just looking at Milly, eyes narrowed, as if she suspected her partner had an ulterior motive. Her hands had already unlocked the second door.

"Nonsense, Mr. Vash!" Milly's reply was bright. Too bright for how upset she had seemed during dinner. "Besides," she continued, "you look like you haven't slept in days…"

And Vash hadn't- in fact, it had been nearly a week since he had even thought about trying to sleep. As a plant, he could go without sleep quite a while longer than the girls- _hah! Didn't even think Meryl's name that ti...Darn it!_\- but from the dark circles under his eyes, the circles Milly would no doubt point out in a second, Vash would need to rest soon. Even if only for an hour or two.

When Vash glanced at Meryl before answering, both of the insurance girls were certain he would say "no". So his, "...Thanks, tall girl," was unexpected. Of course he immediately amended his statement with, "But please, please, wake me up after about an hour, okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Vash!" And with that, she grabbed both Vash's key and the unconscious blond, opening and sliding through the door in record time. There was a resounding click as Milly locked the door behind herself.

For a moment, Meryl and Vash stood awkwardly in the hall, silent and looking at everything but each other. They moved to the other door at the same time, moving so fast that they seemed desperate to get away from each other, and instead managed to bump into each other. They leapt apart and the tense atmosphere from earlier returned.

"Well-" Meryl started.

"So-" Vash began.

Realizing they'd started speaking at the same time, both paused. Meryl cleared her throat. "I'll just open the door then."

_She's using her business voice again._ For some reason- one he would _**not**_ think about- hearing her use that tone with him saddened him. "Er- yeah. I'll just take a nap and then I'll be out of your hair." She nodded. Meryl stepped inside and he followed, moving to the bed opposite of the one she chose. Vash sat down, removed his boots, and unclipping some of his leather body armor.

He felt hyper aware of her. With Meryl in the room, Vash doubted he'd be able to fall asleep. But he rested his head against the pillow anyway, willing to close his eyes and pretend. "Mr. Vash?" he heard short girl ask.

He didn't answer. A few moments of silence passed before he heard her leave the room. The blond sighed in relief and fell asleep.

Several hours later, as the sunsets filtered dim light in through the window, Vash the (former) Stampede woke to the sound of the steamer's alarm ringing. He sat upright, reaching for his armor and the gun that he'd left in the desert. _Oh, yeah_. He froze for a second upon realizing that he was the only one in the room.

Snapping his leather back into place, he ran from the room, rushing to next door. Knives lie on one bed, still in his coma. In front of the other, Milly stood, finger on the trigger of her stun-gun.

And Meryl was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Word Count: 921

I will not apologize for cliff-hangers.


	5. Chapter 5

And the second of two chapters:

* * *

MILLY lowered her gun after a second, relieved to see a friendly face. Then she noticed that she hadn't seen the familiar form of her partner. "Mr. Vash? Where's Miss Meryl?"

"Stay here with Knives," was his reply. The tall insurance girl watched his face harden- _he's wearing his scary face_, part of her recognized. Her eyes went wide as Vash turned around.

"Wait- where's Miss Meryl?" she asked again. But Vash was rushing through the door, and didn't hear her. He paused for a second in the hallway, trying to figure out where the robbers were. To his right he heard the distant sound of gunfire. _There._

His feet carried him toward the sound as it moved further away. When he reached the original source of the sound, he saw the men and women who must have been hired as bodyguards. Cursing under his breath, Vash realized few of them were still breathing and he moved on autopilot to the next location, stopping only to give first aid to those who were severely wounded.

What he judged to be halfway from the place where the fight was currently taking place, Vash saw his first group of hijackers. Both carried weapons- were those automatics?- and neither looked like they'd just let him go by peacefully. Without a gun, he had no way of disarming them from a distance. So he did the next best thing. "Heya, fellas! What's going on?" he asked brightly and walked up to them. The smile painted on his face was forced and he could feel it slipping as his mind raced. _There's no time for this!_

He stopped about six feel away, attempting to appear nonthreatening . They both smirked back at him, glancing at each other from the sides. And then they fired.

Vash yelped, dodging to the side. The bullets missed by a fraction of an inch and he ducked to the other side when he heard the guns fire again. When the man on the left managed to graze him and found he needed to reload for a repeat attempt, Vash slipped behind him, applying pressure to his shoulder. The bone made a loud cracking sound and the bandit howled in pain, his gun clattering to the floor.

"What the-!" The other bandit didn't even manage to finish his sentence before Vash grabbed the first man's gun and swung the butt of it- only just hard enough- into the back of the other's head. He slumped to the ground, and Vash let him fall, only just managing not to wince when the man's head hit the metal.

The blond turned to the other man, whose howls had become whimpers. _I could ask what they're after_...Aqua eyes narrowed and Vash leaned down. "Where's everyone else?"

And of course the man responded by spitting on the plant's face. The bandit's head, much like his buddy's, was introduced to the butt of the gun. Before the man had even slumped against the wall, Vash was gone.

Like the first two hijackers he'd encountered, all of the others that Vash met refused to talk after he'd disarmed them. So far, all he'd managed to piece together from overheard conversations was that they needed to prevent the steamer from getting to New Oregon (he couldn't figure out why). And to do that they'd need to get to the conductor's room.

The blond gunman raced through the halls, up the stairs and took a right. As much as he was worried about Meryl- _this was an emergency, so there was nothing wrong with using her name!_\- he'd have to find her later. No matter how reckless she was, Meryl knew how to take care of herself...He hoped.

As he rounded the last corner, he paused. Just outside the door, roughly twenty hijackers stood, backs to him, trying to break through a haphazardly put together barrier.

Vash weighed his options: disarm the guards from behind and get captured (he knew there were more in the halls somewhere and there weren't enough bullets left in his borrowed gun to incapacitate everyone in front of him, so he _**would**_ get caught) or sneak into the conductor's room via the vents and surprise the bandits on the other side…

He pick the lock on a room several feel from the corner, shut the door after slipping inside, hopped up on the table and climbed into the vents.

When he dropped into the conductor's room, Vash was not expecting to have several guns pointed in his direction immediately.

"Hey, everyone!" They stared at him blankly and the grin Vash had forced on his face vanished. "_Man_," he whined. "I wake up to the steamer being robbed and…" Vash trailed off, catching sight of several other passengers huddled together in a corner. They seemed panicked- movements and gestures jerky, eyes wide, lowered voices carrying undertones of worry. Several of them were leaning over another passenger. A small woman in white lie on the floor. Slowly, the frantic worry of the other travelers faded and they moved away from her.

Forgetting the men surrounding him, Vash stepped forward. He didn't notice them turning away from him, or that they'd let their guns drop. Distantly, the former gunman _was_ aware of the conductor trying to correct their course, of the bandits were trying to break through the barrier again. But neither one of _those _facts mattered at the moment.

On the floor, he saw Meryl, her form resting in a slowly growing puddle of red. She did nothing to stop the bleeding, eyes shut as if sleeping, skin already pale- too pale. In her arms, a small child pleaded with her to get up- Vash moved forward, hands unfeeling as he lifted the boy away. He hugged the child close, eyes fixated on the person in front of him.

"Get up!" the boy continued to plead. _Please get up, Meryl,_ Vash begged. But Meryl was still, unmoving.

Meryl was dead.

* * *

Word Count: 994

...Please don't hate me too much? And if you like my writing, please look for me on fictionpress- there's something I need an opinion on...


	6. Chapter 6

Another day, another update. Happy New Years!

Thanks to: SewerSurfin' and LadySpezz. And everyone of my new followers. (But followers get no credit until they review.)

* * *

TWO HOURS EARLIER

Meryl pulled another derringer from her once-white cloak. Only a few left, the woman realized. She peeked around the corner wishing she'd thought to bring someone with her. Of course, Milly couldn't have come, as she was watching Knives, and Vash didn't have a gun…It was in situations like this that she regretted ever working for the Bernardelli Insurance Company.

Deeming the next stretch of the hall to be safe enough, she slipped out from her hiding spot. She had to find the hostages and release them before- A hand grabbed her from the side. "I knew there were more of ya hiding over here," a girl's voice muttered. "'Ey, Paul! Found another one! Wha'dya want me ta-" Before the hijacker could finish her sentence, Meryl fired her derringer at the woman's arm, dropped said gun and broke free of her hold.

While the woman swore, Meryl ran, searching for an escape route. Another hand grabbed her by her upper arm, jerking her around. Meryl looked up into the face of Paul.

"You really shouldn't have shot Janie like that, girl." Janie came up behind Paul, wrapping a rough bandage around her arm as she walked.

"So," the female bandit asked, "what should we do with 'er?"

Paul paused for a moment, hand rubbing his beard as he thought. "Eh, let's just put her with the others." The two dragged Meryl along until they reached a small room. Jerking the door open, Paul almost tossed her through- until Janie hissed at him.

"Well, check to see if she's still armed, idiot!"

Several captives in the closet watched as they searched Meryl. None of them moved when her cloak was revealed to a mobile, derringer-filled armory, though a few looked surprised. Once they divested her of the cloak, Janie and Paul pushed her forward into the room, dumping her on another hostage. The door locked behind her with a _click_ that sounded more ominous than should be possible.

Slowly, as if attempting not to alert the guards she was sure posted on the door's other side (Paul probably wouldn't have bothered, but Janie was more cautious), Meryl moved from her position atop one of the other hostages. Several others moved to make space for her, grumbling about the hijacking. Meryl glanced at the door. "Sorry about that," she whispered.

"It's okay," whispered a voice that sounded remarkably familiar.

Meryl looked up, squinting to see in the near darkness. She knew this kid- something about another steamer...It hit her like a runaway thomas. "Kite? What are you doing here?"

There was a pause before the teen answered. "Do I know you?"

Meryl explained to him that she had been on the ill-fated voyage he had helped the Bad Lads with. She lowered her voice before once again asking, "What are you doing here? You're not involved again are you?"

He scowled- or at least that was the impression Meryl got from his voice. "Of course I'm not! There's a conference on new steamer tech in New Oregon- how was I s'posed to know that there was gonna be a robbery?"

Meryl frowned for a moment before a thought struck her. "Kite, did you ever see the plans for this type of sand steamer?"

Kite frowned, not seeing the connection. "Yeah, but what- Oh. That could work! There should be a vent over on the left- you could probably use it to get to the control room." He elbowed the man sitting on his left. "Ed, move it would ya? We need to get Meryl into the vents."

Soon enough, Kite and Ed were trying to lift Meryl into the ventilation system. She struggled into the air duct and was about to crawl away when a voice drifted up. "You can't get up there and try to fight them unarmed! Not alone at least!" An argument- fought in whispers- ensued. Meryl turned around, sticking her head out of the entrance.

"Quit it!" she hissed. "If you keep it up, Janie and Paul will come back!"

Kite, Ed and a dark haired woman about Meryl's height blinked up at her. "At least take me with you!" Meryl allowed the woman to come- if only because she knew grumbling would occur otherwise. They moved quickly through the vents, doing their best to follow Kite's instructions.

The duo stopped a fork in the ducts, trying to remember which turn was the correct one, when the woman spoke again. The right had an even floor; the left side was sloped slightly downwards. "I'm Louise by the way." The two of them crawled down the right tunnel.

"Meryl Stryfe, Bernardelli Insurance." Meryl frowned. Ahead of them was a steep drop. "I think we might have needed the left tunnel. We have to turn around."

Louise slowly moved backwards. "How are you so prepared for this anyway? You done this before?"

Meryl sighed. "Multiple times." There was a pause. "I have terrible luck."

Louise chuckled as they slid down the left tunnel. "It can't be that bad. I mean, it's not like you're dying or anything."

Meryl features moved in to a wry smile. _Nope, just heartbroken, steamer-jacked and always in insane situations_. She needed a subject change. "Why did you want to come with me anyway?"

The other woman fell silent. Just ahead of them was the room Kite had told them to look for. "My boy, Lil' Timmy, was over by the control room when the alarm sounded."

The insurance girl had nothing to say to that. Quietly, they removed the grate and entered the room below. The moved to the door, not bothering to check the supply closet for bandits. Suddenly, Louise gave a cry. Meryl turned around and blanched.

A gun was pointed in her face, and Louise was on the ground, out cold. Worse, she knew this particular hijacker. "Well, what'a we have here?" Janie smirked and released the safety off of the derringer she held.

_How ironic_, Meryl thought. She watched Janie warily. _Shot by my own weapon._

* * *

Word Count: ~1,005

Recently, I've had a lot of free time. And the overwhelming urge to write. So I have, like, four more chapters of standard length (so anywhere from 800-1500 words) fully edited and ready to be posted- not that I'll be updating more regularly than once or twice a month...It scares me how much unedited material I have for this ficlet.

'Til next time!

(PS Please remember to review. It may or may not make me update faster.)

(PPS LadySpezz, I was completely serious. A very important person just died- how could you think I would trick you?)


	7. Chapter 7

Vash couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He couldn't hear. And he was cold- shaking, even- though the heat in the room had felt almost oppressive earlier. The plant realized he was displaying the symptoms of shock. _Which is strange_, he thought with difficulty. His eyes refused to shed tears, as if the tear ducts had nothing left to give. He felt an odd detachment from himself, from his mind. _ Since this isn't the first time I've...seen a- a friend die_. But at the sight of Meryl lying still in a puddle of her own blood, Vash was going into shock. He was numb.

The little boy in the gunman's arms began to squirm, trying to get back to the woman to wake her. As if she was just sleeping. "Mama-!" the child cried. And Vash heard him.

Suddenly, he sucked in a breath. The child had said "mama". In the two years and odd months that he'd known Meryl Stryfe, she had never mentioned having a son. And the boy was young- too young for Meryl to have left alone. She loved children and she'd always hated parting ways with them. _Meryl isn't a mother._ Though he still felt cold, was still wracked with shivers, Vash could now move. He could feel something gripping his heart. The blond stepped closer to the body in blood-stained white (or was it actually pink?), the child still struggling in his hold. Despite the way emotion had returned with a vengeance, clamping a vice on his already bruised heart, the man forced himself to look- actually look- at the woman lying on the floor.

And he realized something.

The woman was not his Meryl.

True, they had similar builds, but this woman had longer, and slightly lighter, hair. The clothing was definitely Meryl's he realized (he frowned- why did this stranger have Meryl's clothing?), but she was not Meryl. _She's not my Meryl._ Relieved tears spouted from his eyes.

The relief- the almost, but not quite, joy- that erupted at the observation was suddenly shame, and he sobbed. A lady had just lost her life and all he could think of was how glad he was that she wasn't Meryl.

_Rem_, Vash thought desperately. He'd sinned again. He kept sinning- the same mistake again and again...

As if telling him that his guilt wasn't important, Vash's ears began to work again. It was quiet. Too quiet, considering the bandits had been trying so desperately to enter the control room before…

The steamer came to an abrupt halt, throwing everyone off balance. Except for the former gunman and the boy he was carrying, that is.

Immediately, Vash placed the child on the ground, away from the body of his mother. And then he swept past the dazed men and women guarding the door and into the hallway. Several thieves were lying in front of the door, unconscious. Thinking quickly, the blond bound their hands and removed their guns. As he made to stand up, Vash noticed a trail of blood on the floor. The blood in his veins turned to ice. While the small, irregular splatters could have come from a bandit, he had the nagging suspicion- a gut feeling that they hadn't. _Meryl._

Grabbing one of the guns he'd just removed, Vash followed the trail. If he still had his sunglasses, they would be on his face now. Anyone he ran into was quickly knocked out and rendered harmless.

The blood led to the engine room. Through the open door, Vash could see several robbers struggling with the switches for the engine. _They're trying to turn it back on_, he realized. He raised his borrowed gun, planning to shoot to incapacitate, and froze.

Since leaving his room, he'd gathered that there were about twenty-seven bandits on the stalled sand steamer. Six hijackers were tied up by the control room. Four of them were currently fiddling with the engine, with three others watching them and arguing. Nine were tied up or unconscious in various halls and stairwells. And there were five that he had yet to see-

A loud banging sound above his head caused his eyes to narrow.

And it sounded like the hijackers had found the vents.

He raised his arm again, firing three, four shots in quick succession. Then, before the remaining three figured out what was happening, Vash had entered the sweltering room and introduced them to the butt of his gun. The sounds coming from the vent stopped- whoever was up there, they were smart. He couldn't pin-point their exact location. "Whoever ya are," a voice called down, "you'd better drop yer weapon!"

Vash glanced at the floor, realizing that the trail stopped just below the vent. "Are you wounded?" he called back. He walked over to the end of the trail quietly, hand still holding the gun.

There was a long pause before the man in the ventilation system answered. "..Vash?"

The aforementioned raised his eyebrows. _They bandits know who I am?_ He didn't reply and the person in the vents started moving again, the sound of them bumping against the shaft coming closer. A head popped out of the entrance. Almost neat brown hair, blue eyes- the man looked familiar, but Vash could not place where he'd seen him before.

"Vash!" the young man exclaimed. "Thank goodness. We need to get going now!" When he returned to the vents and found that Vash had not followed, he popped his head out again. Vash still stood nearby, trying to figure out if this was a trap. The blond's eyes narrowed when the teen started talking again. "It's me, Kite."

The plant remained unmoving until he heard Kite's next sentence.

"C'mon! Meryl needs our help!"

And the former gunman entered the ventilation system, no longer caring if he was walking- er, crawling - into a trap.

* * *

Word Count: ~980

Posted 4/28/15

Soul Raider 116: The whole feet/feel thing is on purpose. I mean feet, but the characters actually don't use the proper words...And I think that it's kind of cool; it reflects how languages change. It's great to know that no one feels wacky. I just need to make sure it stays that way, especially after the next few chapters.

0ayumi0: Je suis content que vous l'aimez. Je espère que cela sens- ce est une gracieuseté de Google. Je ne parle frances. Est l'anglais votre langue seconde?


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